


(Take Part of Me With You) When You Go

by morewaterplease



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bitterness, F/F, Fruit, Memories, Overall sadness, Sad, Sad Ending, Summer, Tangerines, just gals being sad, out of character (kind of), rated as teen and up due to SADNESS and YEARNING lmao, recollection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26704531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morewaterplease/pseuds/morewaterplease
Summary: Catra is reminiscing on the last summer she spent with Adora before she moved away. She is also eating tangerines. These two events are related.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	(Take Part of Me With You) When You Go

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from When You Go by Silvertongue. 
> 
> Also I didn't re-read this or anything. So, sorry for any mistakes lol

She pushed her thumb through the soft, textured skin of the palm-sized fruit. She smelled the bitter aroma, wrinkled her nose. Catra had never really liked tangerines. Didn’t like the unnecessary tartness of the fruit, nor the labour that was required to eat such an insignificant thing. Yet, day after day, she went to the dining hall, stuffed one or two tangerines into the pockets of her fluffy sherpa sweatshirt, and hurriedly made her way back to her dorm room. Winters in UEtheria were a bitch. She never not shivered on her way back: due to the biting cold or the raw shame eating at her, she couldn’t tell. 

Catra toed off her shoes, laid down on her bed. She didn’t bother with changing her clothes, simply pulled the bedsheets over her head in an attempt to let the warmth engulf her, to let the sweet memories take over her aching state. So, she let herself reminisce. 

Summer, it had been the end of last summer. Either the end of August or the beginning of September. She couldn’t let herself get too caught up in the details. First, the strips of daylight spilling between the pulled curtains, landing on her face, waking her up not unwelcomely. Then, shifting in the small bed, her hands finding another’s. Sunlight hair and ocean blue eyes. “Good morning,” A soft smile. Catra let herself play with the stray strands of hair framing her face gracefully. Adora looked regal. The Queen of fucking Summer. 

“I’m fucking starving,” Catra had said, diverting her eyes to the painted-chipped walls of Adora’s dorm room. From the wall closest to the bed, her own face stared back at her. Her own arms held the blonde girl close. Her face, _the imposter’s face _, was lit up by a mischievous smile. Taunting, almost. _Get out . _The picture told her. _Get out before she-_____

_____ _

_____ _

Adora never left campus for the summer. Neither did Catra. Going to the same university with your childhood best friend had its perks, one of them being doing literally everything together. Catra had enjoyed the symbiotic lifestyle while it lasted. 

That summer day Catra had wanted to go to the open market near city centre: close enough to campus that she wouldn’t be an angry mess by the time they got there but still far enough to ride Adora’s second-hand red car. It was a beat-up little thing, one of those cars that would cost you more to fix than buy a brand new one, but they had bought it together. Neither of them knew much about cars, yet it was still fun to ride over the speed limit, with the windows rolled down, whatever summer hit was playing on the radio banging, without a care in the world. 

Catra knew that these days would not last. Even as she watched Adora’s slender fingers tap tap tap on the steering wheel to the happy beat, her eyes strictly focused on the road, she could tell that the girl was restless. She knew that Adora would not stay. 

They got out of the car, Catra slamming shut her side’s door. Adora threw a curious glance over her shoulder before shaking her head and starting to walk through the pathway that lead to the pier and the Tuesdays’ open market. She had a lot on her mind, evident from the way she let Catra trail behind her like a stray cat. A very pissed off, yet hesitant, stray cat. This thought made Catra speed up and link her arms with the blonde’s. “Where’s the fucking fire, Adora?” she huffed, barely audible, as if it was herself the question was directed at. Where’s the fucking fire, where the fuck can I find a bucket of water, how the fuck can I make this girl stay. 

They silently made their way over to the marketplace, near the seaside. The silence was like going to dinner at an old friend’s home, its familiarity and stability wrapping you up and providing _warmth _. Although their days together were usually filled with endless chatter and banter, quietness was common, too.__

____

____

Adora slowly intertwined their fingers together and pulled Catra through the corridors of lively market stalls. One of them sold these square pieces of cloth, sunshine turning them each colour of the rainbow at the same time. Another sold handmade jewellery, intricate shapes formed by twisted metal wires. However, none of those caught the blonde’s attention. Except one.

“Look,” she said, her tone wistful. “It’s tangerine season already. The summer is ending.”

Catra did not want to live in a universe where Adora didn’t reign. Instead, she said, “I bet I can pocket some without her noticing.” She pointed at the old lady who was the shopkeeper of the tangerine stall. A bitter smell carried through the sea breeze. 

Adora scrunched her face up at that suggestion. “You really don’t have to,” and when she saw the glint in Catra’s eyes, her stare hardened. “Catra, stop.”

She gave the blonde a sleazy grin. “ _Relax _, Adora. Nothing I haven’t done before.” And they had done it before. Together. This fact seemed to have slipped from Adora’s memory as she fixed Catra with a cold glare.__

____

____

It had been as easy as breathing, more muscle memory than conscious thought, really. She stood facing the sea as her hands grabbed _one and two and three _tangerines from the wooden crates they were in. The stall keeper hadn’t noticed a thing. The victorious smile on her face slipped right off as her eyes met Adora’s icy gaze. She was furious. Somehow it was Catra who ended up yelling at her.__

____

____

“What the fuck is your problem, Adora?” Catra squeezed the tangerines in the pockets of her jean shorts. “Why do you always have to act like a stuck up bitch? I don’t know why I put up with your bullshit.” She had punctured the fruit with her nails, causing its juice to stain her hands and the insides of her pockets. “Wish you would get the fuck out of my life already. Go to whatever rich kid college you want. See if they tolerate your sorry ass there.” She wanted to be cruel, she _wanted _to hurt Adora just as much as she’d hurt her. “You are _nothing _without me. Nothing.”____

_____ _

_____ _

_And I’m nothing without you, so stay._

____

____

Why, she had said such things, she didn’t know. Well, no. That was a lie. She did know. Adora wanted to leave. She wasn’t happy with their small city college, or the places they hung out at, or the way Catra just wouldn’t leave the habits of their hometown behind. And Catra wanted her to stay so badly, to drag her nails across the soft skin of her forearms, to beg her not to leave.

To say goodbye.

Adora had simply turned around, her eyes distant and cold. Catra watched her easy ponytail sway as the girl she loved walked out of her life. Good, she thought. _About time. ___

____

____

Adora left. Term started. Catra felt time, life, what-fucking-ever pass her by as if she was only an observer in her own life. 

Forgetting her was not as easy as spitting pure malice to her face. Everywhere she looked she saw fragments of their shared past. One of her characteristic red hair ties on her wrist, a polaroid picture of them stuck right above her bedside table, a note slipped between a humanities textbook that read _Adora, Adora, Adora _over and over again. Like a mantra, a chant, a prayer. The whiff of fresh tangerines in the dining hall at the end of summer.__

____

____

So, she peeled the relentless skin off the tangerine, and ate the pieces one after another until the bittersweet taste washed away the knot in her throat, the dryness of her mouth, the tears threatening to spill.

**Author's Note:**

> If you couldn't tell I'm projecting my uni and love-related concerns onto these gals lol
> 
> My tumblr is morewaterplease. Hmu if you wanna chat about (happy) Catradora or movies! :)


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